Journey
by miss-suga13
Summary: Ryan is sick and Kirsten takes the opportunity to teach him about music... old school style. COMPLETED.
1. Chapter One

Since I'm not allowed to post in the **Flower Picking Challenge **at TWoP, here's my compensation. It has absolutely nothing to do with picking flowers (dirty, dirty!) But I just felt like having something to do while others (the dirty ones!) wrote about nakedness. It's was originally a one shot, but it's now a three parter because I just couldn't do it. I'm one shot intolerant.

**Journey:** Ryan is sick and Kirsten takes the opportunity to teach him about music... old school style. Sandy and Seth make appearances, but Marissa doesn't, because in my world she just doesn't exist.

**Rating: **G

_Takes place after Thanksgiving and before Chrismukkah._

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She paused near his door, unsure of what to do.

Ryan had been sick for two days now. The doctor said it was a nasty stomach flu, and it should subside within a matter of days.

Kirsten took a week off work.

It was killing her. She sat at the kitchen table doing work that didn't even need to be done, and every fifteen minutes she went outside to check on Ryan. He'd either be sleeping or in the bathroom.

The hot cup of tea was warming the tips of her fingers, and with one free hand she pushed the door of the pool house open.

Ryan was curled in a little ball in his bed. He was pale, and his hair looked greasy, even though he had taken a shower that morning.

"Hi, sweetie." she whispered, setting the cup of tea on the bed side table.

Ryan's eyes fluttered but he remained motionless.

Kirsten squeezed his arm gently.

Ryan's eyes flew open, and he scanned the room from left to right, his eyes slowly settling on Kirsten. He tried to sit up, letting her help him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, the back of her hand touching his hot forehead.

Ryan swallowed tiredly. "Better."

Kirsten frowned, taking the thermometer from the cupboard in the side table and shaking it.

Ryan obediently took it from her hands, placing it in his mouth. It started its infernal beeping.

They sat for a few minutes, the only noise in the room being the steady beep of the thermometer. It uttered one final beep, and Kirsten took it out of Ryan's mouth. He smiled hopefully at her, and her heart melted.

She stared at the numbers flashing in front of her. 100.2.

His fever had gone up.

He stared at her curiously, eager to know what she had to tell him.

She shook her head. "100.2." He threw his head onto the pillow, defeated.

"I _swear_ I feel better." he moaned, laying his hands over his face.

Kirsten almost laughed. Never in Ryan's entire time with them had he sounded as whiny as he did now. He moved one his hands away and peeked at her through one barely open eye.

"Can I go back to school tomorrow?"

Kirsten shook her head. "No. No you cannot."

Ryan covered his face. "Please?" he whined, curling up again. Kirsten took his hands off of his face, grabbing them gently at the wrist. She noticed that he suddenly looked scared, his eyes open wide and his breathing erratic.

She let go, clearing her throat awkwardly. She had been trying to get his attention, and it appeared that she had done just that.

"I mean-- Are you that bored of me already?" She tilted her head and smiled at him.

Ryan smiled back shyly, but sandwiched his hands in between his stomach and his knees. "No. I'm not bored of you, I just need to go back to school."

Kirsten touched his head carefully, this time making sure he knew what she was doing. "Seth's bringing your homework back after school for today and tomorrow, so you don't have to worry." She rested her hand on his temple and watched him swallow his cautiousness and accept the small act of affection she was offering.

"Ryan?" He looked up at her.

"Have you-- uh-- thrown up at all today?"

Ryan moved his head up and down. "Once?" asked Kirsten, looking at him. He was frowning.

"Yeah." he said.

"Ok..." murmured Kirsten doubtfully. "I'll bring you some soup. Drink your tea. It's your favorite."

Ryan lifted himself up to a sitting position and glanced at the tea. He looked back at Kirsten, who still hadn't turned around.

"Um... the soup-- is it made from scratch?" he asked, the sliver of a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, thanks." said Kirsten, in mock indignation. "No, Ryan, it's not made from scratch. It's noodle soup." She waved her arms around and walked towards the door. In the reflection of the glass, she saw Ryan shiver. She turned around again.

"Are you cold, sweetie?" she asked, running for the shelves to get a blanket. She laid it on top of Ryan's white body, and took the mug from his hands. Ryan pushed her away gently and stood up. He tottered for a moment, and Kirsten grabbed hold of him, scared that he might fall down.

A second later, he ran for the bathroom.

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"Hello, darling!" yelled Sandy as he entered the house, groceries in hand. Kirsten was sitting at the kitchen table, working on plans for her next model home.

Sandy kissed her head and plopped down beside her. "How's Ryan?" he asked, taking random things out of the grocery bags.

"Oh." Kirsten fiddled with her ring. "He's still not feeling so well."

"Has he thrown up today?" Sandy pulled out a small bag from the larger paper one, and handed it to Kirsten.

"Yeah. At least once." Kirsten didn't feel like getting into it right then and there with Sandy. Instead, she opened the bag and pulled out a new thermometer.

"It's one of the new ones. You just put it in his ear for three seconds and voila!" Sandy snapped his fingers. "I bet you Ryan will like it better." He smiled, a big, toothy grin.

Too bad he was wrong. Kirsten knew for a fact that Ryan would reject this fancy new thermometer. He was a fan of the classic. Kirsten looked up, and an idea clicked inside her head.

"So, are you staying home tomorrow?" asked Kirsten, and Sandy shook his head.

"It looks like you've got everything under control. I'm gonna go check on Ryan." He gave her another kiss and stepped outside.

He was right about that one. She did have everything under control.

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The next chapter will make it's appearance in two days. Yeah, it's already written, so if you like it, you won't have to wait too long. Sorry if it's a short chapter. I had to cut it off somewhere and it just didn't fit right anywhere else. The next chapters are longer.


	2. Chapter Two

****Once again, this is a three parter. This chapter and the last one are much longer than the first one, since it was just a prologue. I updated earlier than I intended. Why? I just couldn't help it.

******Chapter 2 of Journey:**

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Kirsten finished the extra cup of tea left over from Ryan's tea bag. Three months ago, she would have never known that Ryan loved Earl Grey. She suspected that if she hadn't asked, he would have never told her.

Placing the cup in the sink, Kirsten rinsed it with warm, soapy water. Sandy made her promise not to clean the dishes before she put them in the dishwasher, but Ryan did it too, so what did it matter?

It was 3:00. Ryan was probably still in the bathroom. When Sandy came in after checking on him, he quietly told her that the kid was still in there, and he didn't want to bother him.

Sandy was gone now, leaving the house empty and silent.

Soon enough, Seth would be home, and he would fill the silence nicely.

Kirsten went to the CD cabinet and pulled out some selections. Squishing them under one arm, she picked up the big bowl of noodle soup and made her way to the door, where she pushed down on the fancy door knob that led outside. She pulled out carefully, but a small puddle of soup settled on her hand nonetheless.

Kirsten waited for it to cool down before proceeding on her perilous journey to Ryan's pool house.

She opened the door without knocking. She would have if she could, but her hands were full, and if Ryan hadn't wanted to be disturbed, he would understand. Or maybe he wouldn't. She wasn't quite sure.

She didn't have to find out, because he was sleeping. He looked completely wiped out.

She figured that she could probably start banging pots and pans around the room and he wouldn't even move.

Kirsten didn't want to admit it, but she liked that Ryan was sick. She knew it was a terrible thing to say, and if the doctor had been wrong about the stomach flu and Ryan was sicker than they thought, she would have completely regretted her words, even if they were only said in her head.

She had wondered before why she liked Ryan sick, but now, looking at his sleeping form, his chest slowly rising and falling, she knew.

She had never seen him sick.

She never had the chance to tuck him in at night. Never got the chance to make him tea and soup when he was little. She didn't even get the chance to take care of him.

Kirsten hadn't gotten the chance to be his mother.

She put the soup next to his empty cup of tea. So he had been out of the bathroom long enough to drink it. That was good.

She walked closer to Ryan's stereo and placed the CDs next to it.

Sitting in a nearby chair, Kirsten ran her fingers over her ring. "Ryan?" Her voice was loud, determined, but it covered her true feelings.

Worry. Excitement.

Although it seemed he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, Kirsten had the need to keep on trying. She felt like she was a little kid trying to play with a dog who just wanted to lie down and sleep.

"Ryan?" She smiled when his lip twitched. She was winning her small battle.

"Ryan? Sweetie, wake up for a second."

He flickered his eyes, blinking three times more rapidly than he usually did, which was quite a feat.

"Kirsten?" His voice was hoarse, and his blue eyes were dulled with fatigue.

"Hi there... how are you feeling?" She hated how desperate she was, sneaking into his room with the excuse of soup to spend some time with him.

He crinkled his nose. "Not so good."

That seemed the appropriate response, given his appearance. Kirsten motioned him to sit up, and he complied, taking the spoon from her hands. She carefully handed him the bowl, and he took it just as carefully, dipping his spoon into it and slurping its contents.

"I-- I" Kirsten searched for the words with a sigh. Ryan stared at her quizzically, a small half smile on his pale face.

"I brought you some CDs." she finished.

Ryan shrugged. "That's alright. Seth brought me all of his this morning," he paused, smiling. "...after he pulled the blinds up and yelled at me to see if I would wake up."

Kirsten laughed. Seth had done that to her more than once, and each time he escaped just in time to evade a grounding.

"But these aren't Seth's CDs. They're mine." Ryan furrowed his eyebrows. Kirsten had no doubt in her mind that Seth told him about her apparent "lacking in musical taste", seeing as he seemed much too hesitant to listen to a few songs.

"Seth says you listen to Swedish yodeling." said Ryan, deadpanning.

Kirsten snorted. "He is in _so _much trouble." she muttered, standing up to put all of the CDs in the stereo.

"Just listen, and you'll see. Seth is totally wrong." She shook her head when Ryan laughed softly.

Music echoed around the room, and Kirsten danced her way over to the chair she had originally sat in.

Ryan looked at her. She was holding the remote for the stereo. She paused the music and pointed the remote at him. He moved back a few inches.

"This, Ryan, is Don McLean." She un-paused it, restarting the track.

Ryan heard the voice and laughed. Kirsten glared at him, and he stopped. He couldn't help but snort as the man talked about music making him smile and making people dance.

"What?" he asked innocently as Kirsten paused the song.

"You're not taking this seriously!" she whined.

Sure, he wasn't, but Don McWeirdo was, and so was the piano man who accompanied him, thought Ryan.

Instead of laughing again, he cleared his throat, determined not to disappoint Kirsten. It was a stupid song, and it was long as hell, but eventually Ryan found himself moving his foot ever so lightly against the bed in a rhythmic pattern.

The song wasn't so bad after all, and in the end, he did like the length. Seth's songs ended much too quickly.

Ryan found himself disappointed when the song was over.

Kirsten smiled despite herself. This was what she wanted. She wanted to spend quality time with Ryan. She was about to give him an introduction for the next song when her phone rung in her pocket.

An annoying tone that stopped every few seconds and resumed it's ridiculous humming just as quickly. She thought briefly about changing the ring tone to _American Pie_, but figured that now wasn't the time. She pointed the remote at the stereo and paused the next song, which had begun without her.

"Can you excuse me for a second, hun?" she said, looking at Ryan and tilting her head. He nodded in response.

As she walked outside onto the patio, she felt the wind wheezing all around her, and was glad that Ryan was inside, where the heat was turned up painfully high.

_"I'm cold." _Ryan had said, and Kirsten frowned at him. That couldn't be right. The heat was up as high as it could go, and it was 90 degrees outside. That had been when they decided to take him to the doctor.

"Hello?" said Kirsten. She made good use of being away from Ryan by taking his mug into the house. She dropped it into the sink to wash it later as she held the phone close to her ear with one hand.

"Kiki?" Kirsten sighed. 20 years, and that damn nickname still stuck.

"Hello, dad."

"I'm going to need those blueprints in by tonight. Can you do that?"

Kirsten hesitated. She had forgotten about the blueprints. If she wanted to finish them and get them over to her father by tonight, she would have to stay in the house and leave Ryan all by himself. That wasn't an option.

"No, dad. I'm sorry, but Ryan's sick and I have to take care of him." It was the truth, so why did she feel so bad?

She could hear him on the other line, struggling to voice his opinion about her boy without sounding rude. He didn't say anything, just breathed in, then out, then in again, finally sighing in defeat.

"Well... have them in by tomorrow night at the latest, Kiki."

Kirsten nodded at the phone. "Will do." She said goodbye and hung up, checking the messages on the answering machine. A bright red _one_ flashed up at her, disappearing and reappearing in equal intervals.

_"Hey, doll!"_

Sandy. Kirsten could hear Seth making fun of his father in the background. She could also hear random conversations about shoes and mean girls at school.

_"Well, Seth said he needed to go to the mall, so I brought him over. How much time do you need, kiddo?"_

Kirsten listened to Seth contemplate comic books and video games.

_"Gimme the phone."_ Kirsten laughed. _"I'm gonna need two hours. Oh, and tell Ryan I hope he feels better, and-- uh-- I'm sorry about this morning."_ Kirsten could barely hear Seth whisper as he continued, _"Convince him not to kill me when he feels better."_

"What's going on?" Ryan was standing at the door, holding the empty bowl in his hands.

Kirsten jumped. She turned around and stared at him. He looked even paler in the bright lights of the house.

"Nothing's going on. What are you doing out of bed?" She took the bowl from his hands and put it in the dishwasher.

"I just brought the bowl." He sounded so childish, and he hated himself for it. He had waited in the pool house for a few seconds, and then he began to think that she had left to go back to work. He was being selfish, and he knew it, but he wanted her to himself, at least for today.

Kirsten looked down and saw that Ryan wasn't wearing shoes. He wasn't wearing socks, for that matter.

"You're not even wearing the slippers I got you..."

He frowned. Slippers weren't really his thing, but he couldn't tell her that, so he had accepted them anyways. "I-- I thought you were gonna stay in the house, so I brought the bowl."

Kirsten rolled her eyes. "Didn't I say I'd be back in a second?"

Ryan nodded timidly, and Kirsten touched his back lightly, leading him outside. "Hurry," she said. "The last thing you need is to get pneumonia." Ryan didn't answer her, only quickened his pace.

Kirsten closed the door of the pool house and waited for Ryan to get settled on the bed.

"So," She cleared her throat and clapped her hands together, surprisingly nervous. "Shall we continue?"

She had to contain her excitement when Ryan nodded enthusiastically.

Once, Kirsten asked Seth to listen to her music. He rolled his eyes, scrunched his face together in disgust, and shook his head. She never told him how much it hurt to be rejected by your own son. Shaking off the thought, she turned her attention back to Ryan. Even if he _was _just listening to her old people music out of pity, or even sheer boredom, he was doing it. And that was all that mattered.

He filled in the blanks that Seth had missed.

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See, when I say I'll deliver within a certain period of time, I deliver within said period of time. Even earlier sometimes. Capish? The next chapter will be uploaded in about four days. (my birthday!)


	3. Chapter Three

Ew. I just got an email alerting me about an updated fic, and the first thing I saw was bot at fanfiction.net, and I immediately thought that **the **Bot (MarissaBot) was trying to contact me. I nearly died of fear.

**Chapter 3 of Journey:**

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Ryan Atwood was genuinely excited about listening to music. _Music_.

In Chino, he always found it odd how he never listened to music unless he was at a party or his brother was asking him if he liked his new CD. Whenever anyone asked him what music he was into, the answer was automatic.

_"I like Tupac. Outkast. "_

Anything less and he would've have been shunned. Made fun of. He didn't even listen to music when his brother bought him a walkman for his birthday. He didn't like the feeling of not knowing what was going on around him because of the earphones, so he kept it tucked away in his room.

He never had his own taste in music. In Chino, it had been his brother's choice. Here, it was Seth's.

And here was Kirsten, giving him a chance to listen to something other than what was forced onto him. Sure, this was somewhat pressured, but it was different. He had been looking for something to do in between bathroom trips, and somehow, Kirsten had known.

"Oh! I forgot something." She was just about to restart the music when she remembered. The thermometer. Sandy had gone to the trouble of buying it, so she had to at least _try_ to get Ryan to use it.

She ran out and returned within seconds with it. She waved it in front of Ryan's face and the thermometer rattled inside the box.

"What is _that_?" Ryan eyed it suspiciously. The photo on the box looked like a weird, alien telephone with a little stub at the hearing end.

Kirsten smiled. "It's a thermometer. Sandy got it for you." She had taken off the large, white sticker that stated the price in black. $59.99. It wasn't very much to her or Sandy, but she knew that if Ryan didn't like it and saw the price, he'd use it anyway.

Just to make them happy.

What he didn't understand was that _they_ were happy when _he_ was happy. He wouldn't accept that. It didn't click in his mind. His life revolved around making the people he loved happy, and since it always cost him something, he didn't expect anything more.

"How is it a thermometer?" At least he sounded curious. Kirsten took it out of the box and showed it to him. She held back a giggle as he drew his hand back, scared to touch it. He was focusing on it so intently that he was going cross eyed.

"Can I try it out?" asked Kirsten tentatively.

"Where does it go?" questioned Ryan with a frown, suddenly looking very worried.

"In your ear, Ryan."

"Oh. Ok." His relief was amusingly evident.

Kirsten looked the instructions over briefly before putting it in Ryan's ear and pressing the button. He shifted uncomfortably. It issued a loud beep, and Ryan flinched. That was not a nice noise to hear, and his headache made it ten times worse.

"Oh. Good. Your fever went down. 99.8." Kirsten gave him an enthusiastic smile, and he raised his hands chin high, forming lazy fists to give a less than extraordinary cheer.

"So, what do you think of it?"

Ryan gave her a fake smile. Truthfully, he hated it. It was noisy and weird looking.

Seth would like it.

No, thought Ryan. He'd stick with the old one the Cohens had in the pool house. It was sturdy, simple, and didn't make all that much noise. It was certainly sturdier than the one his mother used to have. The one made of glass. Once, when Ryan got mad, he threw it at the wall. His mother yelled at him as he cleaned it up.

She never did buy him another one.

"It's cool." Kirsten raised an eyebrow. "Really, it's great. But-- I like the other one, if that's ok..." Kirsten nodded, smiled, and put the odd looking thing back in the box.

"I mean, I'll use it... you don't have to--"

Kirsten cut him off by starting the music.

"I like the other one better too." She winked at him and gave him another understanding smile. Ryan returned the favor and turned his attention back to the stereo.

It was quite cool, really. Guitar wailing like crazy as a man sang about touching the sky.

"Who's this?" asked Ryan, curious. The music was trippy, and he thought it would be nice to listen to when he needed to write inspirational English essays.

"Come on, Ryan. You can't be _that_ far out of it." She gave him an incredulous stare, and he stared blankly back at her.

"It's Hendrix." Ryan blinked, completely confused. _"Jimmy_ Hendrix? Don't you know him?" Ryan shrugged and shook his head. "Well I know what to get _you _for Chrismukkah." whispered Kirsten.

"What?"

"Nothing. Here, let's change it. We gotta get through all of these." Ryan nodded.

A man with a wonderfully low baritone voice that rang around the room came on, and Ryan recognized him. He heard his music coming from Sandy and Kirsten's room sometimes, when he went into the house for a snack at night. Barry something or other. As he contemplated his last name, he heard Kirsten giggle.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just... me and Sandy, we usually--" She caught herself before revealing too much, but her cheeks reddened anyways.

Ryan's eyes widened. He furrowed his eyebrows and curled his lip up in disgust.

"That's just-- that's just disgusting. Change the song. Now. Ugh."

He covered his ears and curled up again, resting his head on his knees. Through his masked ears he could hear Kirsten laughing. A real laugh. One with feeling behind it. It wasn't one of his mom's drunken, slurring laughs. He liked it.

It seemed real.

"Ok, ok, I'm changing it." said Kirsten, switching the song and pressing the pause button quickly. She watched as Ryan peeked out from underneath the covers, which he had pulled over himself, to give her a small smile.

"You're gonna tell Seth, aren't you." she said, trying to choose between having a conversation with Ryan or continuing with their musical escapade.

Ryan was surprised Seth didn't already know. Maybe he slept with earmuffs on.

"Maybe..." he said with a smile. It was the smile that he showed only when he was really happy, and his eyes disappeared, the corners crinkled with wrinkles that no sixteen year old should have.

"Well, you tell him, and I guess I can't help you get back at him for this morning..." said Kirsten slyly, examining her nails.

"Oh, I'm sure _you_ could help me..." mocked Ryan, turning his smile into a cocky, one-sided grin.

"Oh, you're in for it now. Now come on, let's keep on going. We've got a _lot_ to go through."

Ryan nodded in false seriousness, stretching out on the bed despite the ever present goose bumps and the small jolts of pain that radiated from his stomach.

Kirsten pressed play. She noticed how Ryan tensed up immediately, the comfortable demeanor he had established only a few minutes ago disappearing. Something made him put his wall of defense back up again, and it saddened her.

The organ on the song died down as Van Morrison began to sing. Kirsten watched as Ryan's breathing quickened, and he stared straight ahead as though the world were spinning around him. He looked like he was about to be sick.

"Honey, are you alright?" asked Kirsten, worried. "Are you feeling dizzy? Dr. Jenkins said that if you felt any strange symptoms, we have to take you to the doctor." She paused. "Or the hospital." She was feeling bad about liking Ryan sick already. He probably had some serious, life threatening disease, and here she was, trying entertain herself with her poor, sick kid.

Ryan blinked and looked at her. His eyes welling with hot tears, he tried to stop her from standing up by gently touching her arm.

"No, no. It's nothing like that. It's just-- this song-- it--" His voice cracked, and he swallowed before closing his eyes to lock the tears away.

_The room was humming harder..._

"My mom-- she used to listen to this." He looked away. "When she-- uh-- got drunk with her boyfriends." He shuddered and curled up again, this time facing away from Kirsten.

_As the ceiling flew away..._

They'd slur the words and dance around stupidly, looking for something to hit.

Sometimes.

The other times, Dawn drank all alone, singing the words sadly as Ryan peeked with one eye from his room. She'd cry and sing, and his heart would break.

Then she started doing hard drugs with the alcohol, and she'd still listen to the song, pupils dilating as she dropped her gin and the glass shattered into little pieces on the floor.

Once, she found Ryan looking at her and she asked him why he had been born. She asked him why he sat there and tortured her by looking at her while she slowly killed herself. And she slapped him and told him to go back to bed.

Because she cared.

__Kirsten sat in shocked silence as Ryan's body suddenly convulsed in hushed sobs. She immediately stopped the song and tried to get closer to him. She had always thought that Ryan had the power to make himself invisible. He could make himself as small as he needed to be, but she had never seen him this small. This vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." she whispered. "I didn't know."

And then he was an adult again. He cleared his throat, sitting up and wiping frantically at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He got out of bed and shuffled over to the bathroom as Kirsten called for him to come back.

He had shown emotion. He never let it happen, and now he had. He felt like smashing his head into the mirror. It was the damn flu, lowering his strength and upping his vulnerability to an irritating high.

Kirsten wasn't asking him to come out anymore. He had been throwing up for the past three minutes. Now he washed his mouth out and washed his hands, drying them off on a fancy white towel.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry, honey. Please forgive me." She hugged him as soon as he was out of the bathroom, guiding him back to the bed.

"I'll go if you want me to." she said as he covered himself with the blanket. He shook his head and gave her a weak smile.

"No, it's fine." He paused and took a calming, shaky breath. "I'm fine. So-- uh-- you wanna keep going?"

Kirsten nodded mirthlessly, changing the song again. They listened for a few seconds, Ryan quietly rated the song, and they changed it.

It was like that for an hour, before Kirsten's favorite song came on. Ryan had lost most of the tension that had been built up by the song on the CD Kirsten had decided to burn in a bonfire. He was listening intently, moving his foot to the music.

The music was corny. The man's voice was classic 80's, and he could just _see_ the band wearing leather vests without shirts on. They were good though.

Really good.

And Seth would have his head if he knew that he was listening to, and liked, eighties music. Not just eighties music, but weird eighties music.

"This is Journey, Ryan." said Kirsten, watching his face scrunch in intense concentration. He seemed to be taking this much too seriously now, but she didn't mind. She liked that he wasn't making silly jokes or making fun of her cooking skills every few minutes.

Sure, Ryan made jokes every now and then, but it was different. She wasn't trying to compare both boys, but Ryan was a quiet change from Seth, who buzzed around making noise all day long.

Suddenly, she felt terrible about her thoughts. She liked to think she wasn't comparing Ryan and Seth, but that was exactly what she was doing. She'd have to try and spend the day with Seth tomorrow and make it up to him.

"Journey?" said Ryan carefully as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his moving foot.

"You like them?"

Ryan gave a small nod. He always took pride in not showing too much excitement, because whenever he did, he was always disappointed.

Kirsten, following the schedule, moved to change the song, but was stopped by a small, pale hand that was placed on her arm. She smiled at Ryan and turned the volume up.

They listened silently until Kirsten looked into the house to see a door close and Seth and Sandy enter the house. She could tell it was them from their loud laughter and the jokes. She looked at Ryan, who gave her an understanding smile and motioned for her to go.

Kirsten picked up the thermometer and went over to stop the song that was now playing. She carefully took out all the CDs and placed them in the corresponding cases.

She had been known to be obsessive when it came to some things. Organizing her CDs was one of those things. The other was organizing her files from work.

She gave a little wave to Ryan and opened the door to leave, when he stopped her.

"Wait." he whispered, and she turned around, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Yes, Ryan?" He looked down and played with the edge of the duvet cover.

"I was just wondering if it would, you know..." He paused and took a deep breath, which he held. "I was wondering if I could borrow that last CD. The Journey one?" Kirsten frowned in amusement.

"You want to borrow my Journey CD?" she asked, disbelieving his words.

"I mean, you don't have to. You could just give me the name of it, and I could go buy it the next time Marissa takes me shopping." He shrugged and gave her a small smile.

Kirsten shook her head and searched for her CD. Her favorite CD. The one with the two white stripes on either side, and the trippy purple middle that she always loved. The one that Sandy had given her for their aniversary that one time, with all the members' of the bands' autographs on the inside, written in blue pen.

"Here," she said. "You can have it."

She could buy another copy any other day. She could hunt down the band and get them to sign the new copy. The look on Ryan's face as she slipped the case into his hands would be worth it.

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There. Finito. Fin. The end. Again, sorry about the lateness, I deleted it and had to rewrite it, and so forth and so forth. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for the reviews!

As for the music I used, the list is as follows, in order. **"American Pie"** by _Don McLean_, **"Purple Haze"** by _Jimmy Hendrix_, **"Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up"** by _Barry White_ (yes, I know I didn't use any lyrics, but whatever), **"A Whiter Shade of Pale"** by _Van Morrison_, and **"Separate Ways"** by _Journey_ (also didn't use any lyrics, but just thought I'd make it clear that it's the same song Ryan listens to in "The Goodbye Girl"). I don't own them either, or their music, although I do own a Jimmy Hendrix T-Shirt. Rock!


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